Transfero
by Nyce
Summary: When Dean wakes up one morning in the body of a 10 year old kid, he knows straight away something was really, really wrong. Of course, he didn't expect it to be that he was in the body of a supposed savior of the wizarding world. Not to mention that said kid was still in his head. Great - who does he get to kill to fix this? Rated T for swearing and Dean.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there! This is a new fanfiction I'm working on. I hope you guys will enjoy, and please let me know what you think in the reviews. 3 This is unbeta'd but if anyone with knowledge of Supernatural and Harry Potter wish to Beta this for me, just let me know! This first chapter is short, but the rest are longer.**

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><p>When Dean Winchester woke up, he knew straight away that something was very wrong. It wasn't the fact that his bed felt like it had gotten thinner and made of cement, or the fact that he couldn't feel the impression of his gun though his not-there pillow.<p>

No, it was the dull headache in the back of his head and the feeling as if his entire body had gone through a dryer and had shrunk down several sizes. Very, very slowly Dean opened his eyes and saw… nothing.

Everything was black, and blurry if that made any sense. Slowly, Dean started to sit up, suddenly surprised when his head made contact with the top of whatever it was that he was being held it. Holding in a few curses, Dean rubbed his forehead.

He reached out as far as his arms could go, which for some reason (probably to do with the shrinking feeling) wasn't very far at all. However, he managed to find something that seemed to substitute as a bed-side table.

There was something sitting on it that felt small, circular and smooth, except for what felt like rough tape around the middle. Dean frowned – that wasn't glasses, was it? He moved on from them, and found something else sitting there. A flash-light!

He grabbed it, trying his best to ignore how big it felt in his hand, and then turned it on. Finally, he could see what kind of freak had him captive and where he was.

However, what he saw was something else entirely. Dean's eyes widened a fraction, "The hell?" he muttered, making his eyes widen even further. His voice was squeaky, high pitch and overall young. Dean shook his head, looking down at his hands now in the light of the flash light.

They were tiny.

He was tiny and locked in what appeared to be a broom closet.

"What the hell?" he repeated, quietly.

He very slowly slid off of the bed – or a poor excuse at one – and stood on his tiny legs. Damn, he thought looking down at himself, he was a kid! Oh great - this was perfect.

Dean shone the torch at the cupboard door, carefully making his way to it. He grabbed the fuzzy handle and tried it. Much as he suspected, it was locked. Well, if there was one thing Dean was certain of (and in this situation that was lacking) was that kid or not, he could pick any lock.

It didn't take too long for him to find a loose nail in the tiny cupboard, and quickly started working on the lock.

It unlocked. He held his breath as the door slowly opened, and annoyingly giving a squeak. Once he could see out there, Dean realised that those glasses were in fact for him. Which made zero sense - he never needed glasses as a kid. Maybe what ever did this made him need glasses? What would the point be?

Either way, Dean grabbed the glasses, shoving them onto his face and was immediately greated by clear vision. Clearer, anyway, no where near what Dean was used to.

The glasses were heavy on his face, and felt like they were going to fall off at any second. He could not wait to stick a bullet into the thing that did this.

He slowly exited the cupboard that he saw was located under _the stairs? _What kind of holding place was this? If he was being held captive then why wasn't there any guards or something? What the _hell _was going on?

Dean quickly got his answer, passing a china cabinet.

He looked into it, trying to work out why he was locked up in a perfectly normal if not borderline-creepy-normal house, and was who surprised at who he saw. Ok, he knew something was up with him since he was small and his voice higher. It didn't take a genius to work out he was a kid again.

So it wasn't that much of a shock to see a 10 year old kid staring back - however, the fact that the kid was super skinny, with bright green eyes and raven black hair? That called for surprise.

Dean had never seen that kid before, yet somehow he was him?

Suddenly, there was a squeak of a lose floor board on the staircase, and footsteps. A surge of panic surged into Dean, along with the though, _gotta get back in the cupboard before they see me out._

Dean practically moved on auto pilot, rushing back to the cupboard, and shutting and re-locking the small door behind him before the footsteps made it halfway down the staircase. It only took a moment longer than it should have for Dean to realise what the hell just happened.

"Did I just run back to a cupboard I was locked in when I heard someone coming?" he muttered to himself, "And I was _panicked_?"

The empty cupboard held no answers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews and favs/follows. I happy to see this fanfic being well received. Just to quickly answer somebodykillme, this was going to be revealed a bit later in the story but there's no harm in saying now. Time Travel/Alternate world. :) But don't worry. Sam will find out soon. **

**Also, realized I didn't put this up in the first chapter, this takes place somewhere in Season 5 of supernatural. Before 99 Problems sometime.**

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><p>While Dean laid down in the cupboard - there was no way in hell he was getting back to sleep - he looked up at the dark ceiling. Maybe the feelings he had gotten belonged to this spiky haired kid? They certainly weren't his.<p>

It wasn't long before there was more sounds moving around - voices and people walking. In fact, he was fairly sure someone was purposely walking back and forth on the stairs above his cupboard.

Wait - _his _cupboard?

There was a suddenly a shrill voice, which made Dean wonder for a moment if there was a Banshee in the house, "Up! Get up! Now!" and then after a second, there was a banging at the door, "Up!"

There was an audible click as the door was unlocked again, then the sounds of footsteps and the clang of what sounded like a fry-pan being put on a stove.

Dean slowly walked over and opened the door up, looking out with a small frown. The woman who had knocked on the door had walked into what Dean knew from his earlier escapade was the kitchen. The woman walked back over to Dean, a sour expression on her face, "Well, don't just stand there – I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." she turned her back to Dean, and started to walk away, just as Dean let out a small, "What?"

"What did you say?" the woman asked, looking back at Dean, with a glare so disgusted it was as if he had rolled in garbage.

"Nothin'" Dean replied, tilting his head and watching as the woman gave a 'that's-what-I-thought' nod of her head and walk away.

Still quite confused, Dean seemed to act on auto-pilot again, his small body walking into the kitchen and going over to the stove where the bacon was frying. He had grabbed a spatula and turned over the bacon before he could ask himself, _Why the hell am I doing this?_

A rather fat man entered the kitchen, a newspaper in his hand. He took one look at Dean before barking, "Comb your hair!"

'_Eggs next.'_

It was that voice again, the one that sounded like it belonged to this kid. Dean frowned, his small hands grabbing a pair of tongs to take the now cooked bacon out of the pan. Why the hell was he doing this?

'_Instinct, probably. Eggs are next.'_

Dean frowned, grabbing the egg carton out of the fridge and cracking some open, '_Who the hell are you? And why am I in your body?"_

There was silence in his head as the eggs sizzled, but in the kitchen there was a new arrival. It was a boy, probably about the kid's age that Dean was in (that sounded wrong) and looked a lot like the man sitting at the kitchen table.

Then Dean noticed the presents sitting on the table. Something clicked in Dean's brain – that must be Duddy – _Dudley. My cousin. – _and it was his birthday that the Banshee woman had mentioned.

'_Aunt Petunia. And that's Uncle Vernon. They're the Dursleys. I live with them. Oh, my name is Harry Potter – sorry. I seem to only get snippets of what you're thinking. The rest is just feelings.'_

Dean was silent as the kid rattled on in his head. So now he had names – great. Fat lot of good that'd do him – what he'd like to know now is what _the hell was going on._

The bacon and eggs were finished cooking so Dean put them out on the three plates that were there, and with a frown he grabbed a fourth plate and put the portion he had cooked for himself out on it. He put the plates on the table – more auto pilot. Did this kid make breakfast for this family all the time? – and the new kid, Dudley, seemed to be counting the presents.

Whatever the verdict was, the boy's face fell, "Thirty-six." He said, looking up at his father, and then his mother when Banshee-woman returned, "That's two less than last year!"

Dean's eyebrows shot up. Was this kid seriously about to have a _temper tantrum _about having _thirty-six _presents?

"Darling, you haven't counted Aunt Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"Alright. Thirty-seven then." The boy seemed to be going red in the face, and yup, he was definitely about to throw a tantrum about getting thirty-seven presents. Dean was eating the bacon he had cooked, shaking his head slightly.

Banshee-woman Petunia seemed to be getting the same impression that Dean was getting, as she quickly added, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that alright?"

Dudley's face scrunched up, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…"

"Nine. Thirty-nine." Dean muttered under his breath just as Petunia said, "Thirty-nine, sweetums."

Banshee-woman and pig-boy didn't seem to have heard him, but judging by the glare Dean was getting by Vernon – pig-man? Have to think of a better one – he guessed that Vernon had heard. Oh well, big whoop.

"Oh." Dudley sat down on the chair heavily, grabbing the closest present, "All right then."

Vernon chuckled, "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" with that, he ruffled the boy's hair.

Dean rolled his eyes.

The phone rang, just then, making Petunia leave the kitchen to go answer it. Dudley started opening his presents, but Dean couldn't care less about what the pig-boy got. He sat there, in silence, but he was thinking hard.

_Harry? Yo, Potter. Dude – you there? Mind telling me why the hell I'm in your body?_

It seemed for a moment that Potter wasn't going to reply, until there was a quiet, '_I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen! Nothing ever happened before. I just wished that I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore. That someone could take my place. I didn't think this would happen!'_

Dean sighed, _Relax kid. My name's Dean Winchester. I deal with shit like this a lot – well, not this specifically, but weird stuff._

'_Oh. So you have any idea what's going on?'_

_Depends. When you say 'wished' what do you mean by that? Like, you had a wishing object? Or a shooting star, or what?_

'_Uh… more like praying I suppose?'_

_Ah crap._

'_What?'_

However, before Dean could reply to the boy in his head, Banshee-woman returned, an expression of anger and worry on her face, "Bad news Vernon. Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can_'_t take him." She jerked her head at Dean.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror.

"Now what?" Petunia asked, glaring at Dean as if he had planned this whole ordeal – which Dean was fairly sure Harry hadn't.

"We could phone Marge?" Vernon suggested, and Dean was aware of a squirming feeling coming from the back of his head. Sounds like Harry didn't like this Marge person. From what Banshee-woman said next, Dean guessed the feeling was mutual.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

Dean watched with a raised eyebrow.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?"  
>"On holiday in Majorca."<p>

"Y'could just leave me here." Dean comment, arms crossed over his chest.

It would give him time to fix this mess, call Cas and Sam and get out of here. And if the feeling he got from Harry was accurate, then Harry felt like that it was a good plan to stay here.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" Banshee-woman snarled, expression on her face as if he had forced her to drink lemon juice.

"I wouldn't blow this place up." Dean scoffed, no that would be the Angel's job once Dean got his hands on them.

But they didn't seem to be listening to him, "I suppose we could take him to the zoo…" Petunia said slowly, "But leave him in the car."

"The car's new. He's not sitting in it alone." Vernon debunked the idea.

Then pig-boy, much to Dean's utter disbelief, started crying. However, it only took a second for Dean to recognize that they were fake tears. Petunia flung her arms around him, "Dinky Diddydums- " seriously? "Don't cry. Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!"

"I… don't… want … him… t-t-to come!" the pig-boy, no, now he was cry-boy and Vernon was pig-man, yelled between obviously fake sobs, "He always sp-spoils everything!" the boy sent Dean a nasty grin from between his mother's arms.

Then the doorbell rang, making Petunia frantically stand up, "Oh Good Lord, they're here!" she said, and two people entered the kitchen – a boy about Dudley and Harry's age and his mother.

Dudley stopped his pretence cry instantly.

Eventually, they couldn't work out what to do with Dean so they had to bring him along with them. Vernon had taken Dean to the side and spoke in a low, and what the pig-man probably thought was threatening, tone, "I'm warning you." He started, putting his face right in Dean's, but the boy didn't back away, "I'm warning you now, boy – any funny business, anything at all – and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"What, like setting free all the animals?" Dean asked, but nodded his head as he noticed Vernon's face go an interesting shade of purple, "Relax, I'm not going to do anything."

Vernon didn't seem to believe him, but Dean really didn't care. He was going to do something anyway, he was planning on leaving in the crowd but the least he could do was make as little trouble for Harry once the boy regained control over his life.

Anyway, they all climbed into Vernons new, plastic, terrible car and started making their way to the Zoo. Dean was squished next to Dudley and his friend, and was forced to listen to Vernon rant and rave about motorbikes. They could've at least played the radio.

'_I had a dream about a motorbike… it was flying.'_

Dean barely jumped at the sound of Harry in his head, _Really? Sounds interesting, kid. _He replied, somewhat absently.

'_Yeah. It was weird, but just a dream.' _He was quiet for a moment, _'Dean… how old are you? You keep calling me kid.'_

_Uh, I'm 30. Makes it super freaky to be stuck in a kid._

Harry was silent after that, and the car pulled into the Zoo and the family and friend climbed out of the car. It wasn't until Dean caught sight of the name of the Zoo that he froze, and then quietly spoke to Harry again, _Dude. Is that London Zoo as in London London? England London?_

'_Is there any other London?'_

_Crap. Dude! I'm American! I was in America! When I get my hands on whatever feathery douche did this I'm gonna light their ass with holy oil._

'_What?'_

_Don't worry about it kid. Life just loves to screw with me._

And with that, Dean was quick to hurry up behind the Dursleys before the noticed he had stopped. Inside the zoo was crowded, but that made things much easier for him to be able to wander off away from that crazy family.

The only empty room that Dean found was the reptile house. He moved over and sat down next to the Boa Constrictor cage, where the snake was having a little doze, "Hope you're not afraid of snakes, kid." he muttered under his breath, "Alright – here goes nothing."

Dean looked up at the ceiling, "I – uh – pray to Castiel to get his feathery whitey-tighties here 'cause I'm in England in the body of some kid and I really don't want to be and let the poor sap get back to his life before I punch his family. I'm – uh – in the Reptile house of the London Zoo." there was silence.

'_What... what are you doing?'_

"Callin' a friend." Dean replied, muttering under his breath, "C'mon Cas. Daylight's burnin' and the more I'm stuck here the more I'm gonna do something I won't regret but Harry here might."

Dean waited a few more minutes, but it came apparent that nothing was going to happen. Dean let out a heavy sigh, "Great. Perfect. Cas, this better be because you can't hear me and not because you're _laughing_ or something."

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><p><strong>Hope you liked the chapter 3 Reviews are love! :D<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Sorry for the delay. I went away for a few days and when I got home I couldn't find my USB stick that had this saved on it. But I found it this morning so promptly uploaded this! Thanks for all your reviews, they make me smile! :D This chapter is unedited.**

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><p>It didn't take too long for the Dursley's to come across the Reptile house. When they saw him, Dean could have sworn that they looked slightly disappointed and quite angry. Since there was no way Dean knew to get out of Harry or even to let the boy take control of his own body, Dean felt that he didn't even care.<p>

"Where did you go?" Vernon hissed at Dean once he was close enough, and Dudley and his friend started to try and capture the sleeping snake's attention.

"I've been right here." Dean replied, crossing his arms, "Figured that if I got kidnapped, you lot wouldn't care."

The expression that appeared on Vernon's face was actually quite amusing. Dean could feel a bit of amusement coming from where he now knew Harry's mind was in the back of his own. Vernon opened his mouth, Dean didn't know what for since he knew he was probably right and there was no way that Vernon was going to claim to care about Harry.

However, Vernon was saved from having to come up with something smart to say – Dean doubted he could have managed it – when Dudley started complaining, "It's not moving! Make it move, dad!"

Vernon sent a glare at Dean, "This isn't over, boy." he warned in a low voice, but the moved closer to Dudley, and then tapped on the glass. Dean rolled his eyes, watching as Dudley ordered, "Do it again."

Vernon tapped the cage again, slightly harder this time but the snake just snoozed on. "This is boring." Cry-boy moaned and then shuffled on to look at something else in the Reptile House.

Dean rolled his eyes again, watching as the boy, his parents and friend moved over. As soon as they were no longer in front of the Boa-Constrictor, the snake in question opened it's eyes. Dean smirked, it was almost as if the snake had been pretending to be asleep.

The snake raised it's head up, tilting it's scaled head at Dean as it reached his level. Dean's smirk fell off of Harry's face as the snake winked. "Kid, did you see that?" Dean muttered under his breath.

'_Yeah...'_

The snake jerked its head towards Vernon and Dudley, and then it seemed to roll his eyes, a look that Dean knew quite well was one of exasperation.

"Get it a lot? Must be very annoying" Dean said, his voice low and frowning. What the hell. He was talking to a _snake_?

Then, of course, the snake vigorously nodded it's head.

"Right." Dean said, and looked around. No one else seemed to be paying attention to them, and Dean was running though whatever monsters and things that he knew that could change themselves into snakes. He couldn't think of any, "Where'd you come from?" Dean quietly asked.

The snake flicked it's tail to the sign, '_Boa Constrictor, Brazil.' _well, _yeah_ – he knew that much, "Did you like it there?" the snake jabbed it's tail to the sign again; _This specimen was bred in the zoo._

That helped a bit actually, maybe something was in the Zoo doing something to the animals? But before Dean had any more time to contemplate the possible hunt, there was yelling in his ear, "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELEIVE _WHAT IT'S DOING!"

It was Dudley's friend. And then, in their excitement – and on purpose – Dudley punched Dean in the ribs much to his surprise, "Out of the way, you!" and Dean hit the hard cement ground as he fell off the seat.

_Harry, your cousin __**hits**__ you?_

'_Sometimes. When he can catch me. Him and his 'gang' have a game where they try and hit me. My glasses? They're taped together from all the times I've been punched in the nose.'_

_And your aunt and uncle? I mean, I can tell they don't care about you much – but they let cry-boy do that to you?_

_'Yeah. They don't care about me at all.'_

A glare was now apparent on Dean's borrowed face, fixed intently at where Dudley and his friend were leaning right up against the glass wall. Even though Dean didn't know Harry – apart from spending a few hours in his body – he thought he was a decent kid. The fact that his _family_ of all people didn't care about him? It made him quite mad.

Then that's when the glass wall between Dudley, his friend and the Snake disappeared.

It happened quite quickly. One second, everything was fine and the next second it was chaos. Dudley and his friend had jumped away from the glass with a scream, and the snake hissed and slithered out and over the edge of the containment – making everyone who had come to investigate the screams jump out of the way as the snake moved towards them.

The weirdest thing, however, and as if this could get any weirder, the snake hissed out to Dean, "Brazil, here I come... thanksssss amigo." as it slithered away.

Everything after that moved with a blur. Vernon had grabbed Dean roughly and yanked him to his feet and kept a tight grip on him as they left the Zoo. In the car ride back to the Dursley's home, Dudley and his friend had started going on about how the snake had nearly killed them, utterly lying, and then Dudley's friend said, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you Harry?"

Dean threw the boy his dirties glare ever, actually making the rat faced kid shrink back slightly. However, the damage had already been done and when they got back to Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, Vernon was turning red and purple and oddly enough, white. As soon as Cryboy's friend was gone, Vernon grabbed Dean's arm tightly, so tight he was sure it'd leave a bruise, "Go – cupboard – stay – no meals."

Then practically threw the 10 year old body in there and the door was locked behind him. Dean stared at the door behind him, then looked around, "What the hell?" he said, "Hang on – did that snake talk to me?"

'_So you heard it to? Guess I'm not going crazy then.' _there was a pause, '_Then again, I am a voice in the the back of my own head and there's a 30 year old in my body.'_

Dean winced, "Sorry kid, really. If I knew how to, I'd leave your body as soon as I can instead of staying here like a common demon."

'_Demon? Dean – who's Castiel? Why were you praying to him? Did you make that glass disappear?'_

Dean let out a sigh as he slumped down on the bed, "Castiel's an Angel and a pal of mine. Yeah, angels are real and so are demons, vamps, witches and a whole lot of other monsters. I'm a Hunter – it's my job to hunt down those monsters that hurt people and make sure they stop. I was praying to Cas so he'd come and use his angel mojo and fix this, but apparently he's not taking my calls." the last part was added bitterly and eyes raised to the ceiling, "As for the glass, hell, I have no idea."

He did have plenty of time to think about it though. Since the Dursley's blamed Harry for the glass disappearing, Harry's punishment was to be locked in that cupboard, only to eat the small portions of food that they slid through a slot on the door.

Every night, after the Dursleys were asleep, Dean would pick the lock and go eat something actually nice from the kitchen. The first few nights he tried ringing Sam, then Cas, and Bobby – not caring at all about the international cost for the calls – but the numbers were never connected. It didn't take long for Dean to work out why, spotting the newspaper that was folded up on a table in the living room.

"1991?" he hissed, eyes wide.

Time travel. He was very quickly growing to hate it. At least he now knew why Cas wasn't answering his prayers – because the Cas who he was actually praying to was a dick. Nice to know.

A few times in the night over the next few months, Dean tried running away – with Harry's approval – since he knew he would be able to survive. He may have been in a 10 year old's body but his was still 30 (or 12, in this timeline) and very well could take care of himself.

But that plan didn't end up working either. For some reason, whenever he had the intention to leave the Dursley house, he didn't make it past the end of the street before he seemed to appear at the house again. It happened twenty-seven times over the course of his 'punishment' and was really peeving Dean off.

So while locked in his cupboard there was only one thing to do to bide time. He trained. Potter's body was skinny, and weak. Probably from all the malnourishment. So Dean spent his time building up Potter's strength.

In his night time trips, Dean stole bottles of water, soda and some tins of food that he could store under a loose floorboard he had found in the cupboard. Potter didn't feel the strain that his body was going through, but Dean did.

Dean did push-ups and sit-ups. If he scrunched his body small enough, he could grab a small beam at the top of the cupboard and use it to pull himself up. By the end of his 'punishment' Harry's body was much stronger, and better fed.

When the punishment ended, Dean spent as much time outside of the house as he could, knowing whatever feathered dick that was laughing at him wouldn't let him run away from that house so he stocked up.

Dean didn't feel guilty about it, but he could feel a twinge of guilt from Harry, however it was not enough to try and get the hunter to stop. Dean took money from Vernon, Petunia and Dudley – it wasn't enough to raise suspicion. A few pence here, a pound there and so on (Dean did need to get Harry to explain the money. Pence? Pounds? Why didn't England go for the Dollars and Cents?) until he had some money that he could use if he ever needed it.

He also stole a knife from the kitchen – since no one in their right mind would sell him one – and kept it hidden in his cupboard. It was silver and at night he practised with it, getting this new body used to the feel of a knife.

Of course, he couldn't avoid the crazy family forever, and as soon as the holidays were finished, he'd need to go to school which Dean wasn't looking forward to, but at least it was a different school to the one that cry-boy was going to.

Days passed, and Dean was getting really sick of this. He had to have been here for two months, at least, and nothing big had happened. What was the whole point of this? If an Angel had done this, usually they were a bit more impatient and he really couldn't see the point in this anyway.

Dean hadn't yet gotten out of the house when the mail came through the small slot on the door.

"Get the post, Dudley." Vernon said.  
>"Make Harry get it."<br>"Get the post, Harry."  
>Dean rolled his eyes, "Make Dudley get it."<br>"Poke him with your Smeltings stick, Dudley."

Dean dodged the stick ( which wasn't that hard really. He'd dodged worse) and with a mutter under his breath he went to get the mail, "Lucky I'm stuck here. Treating me and Harry like a slaves. I'd break that goddam stick if that pig kid let go of it for two seconds."

He picked up the letters off of the ground. A postcard, a bill and a… letter for Harry? In all his time being stuck in this kid, he'd never gotten a letter addressed to the kid.

"Harry, you got a letter." Dean muttered under his breath.

Talking to the kid in his head had gotten harder. Sometimes Harry missed whole sentences in their conversations and Dean was getting the feeling that some of the this Harry said never made it to him. They found it was easier for Dean to speak out-a-loud to Harry and Harry respond in their head.

'_I never get mail.' _Dean could feel the surprise from the boy.

Dean turned the letter over and was highly surprised to see the red wax seal closing it. Huh. "Odds are high they won't let you have this. We'll read it in private, kid." Dean said, and then tucked the brown envelope in the waistband of his pants.

"Hurry up boy! What are you doing, checking for letter-bombs?" Vernon shouted from the kitchen, then laughed at his own joke.

Dean rolled his eyes, then started heading back to the kitchen with the mail. On his way there, he discreetly slid Harry's letter under the door to the cupboard under the stairs, and then went and deposited the rest of the mail to the Dursleys.

He stuck around only long enough to eat his breakfast, then he left. Passing his cupboard, he grabbed the letter and then left the house. He sat down in the garden, a spot he had found that completely hid him from the view of anyone and gave him privacy.

Then he had a better look at the letter, "Mr H. Potter. The Cupboard Under The Stairs. 4 Privet Drive. Little Whinging. Surrey." He read aloud, "Well, ready kid?"

There was no response from Harry.

With a frown, Dean ripped open the envelope and pulled out a several pieces of parchment. Parchment? Seriously?

As Dean read what was one those pieces of parchment, his incredulity grew, "You've _got_ to be kidding me."


End file.
